


Spark

by mochiboom



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochiboom/pseuds/mochiboom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reality comes crashing down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark

Yuushi's dying.

Gakuto knows this because there are bruises where there shouldn't be; his eyes, his chest, his lips and there is a mask over his face, with a long tube attached to a machine that wheezes and suck with every rise and fall of Yuushi's chest. A needle is slid neatly under the thin skin of his wrist, the veins look just as bruised as the rest of him, and his skin looks translucent.

Gakuto is frozen to the floor of the hospital room; his feet have taken root and his hand is wrapped around the doorframe like ivy, eyes huge and staring in his face. His mouth has gone dry and his tongue seems to have swollen and stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Yuushi doesn't seem to have noticed him. In fact Yuushi doesn't seem to have noticed  **anything**  in the room, glassy eyes staring at the drab white-washed ceiling. Vaguely, Gakuto wonders if he's counting the mould spots. Beside the bed, the fine, gossamer curtains billow like waves on the late summer breeze, ruffling the petals of the sad, fading flowers. Gakuto can't identify them, but from the petals scattered across the bed sheets like drops of blood, to the limp leaves, Gakuto knows that they, like Yuushi, are dying.

He wrenches his paralyzed body forwards, with a whimper that doesn't quite make it out, ending up instead like a strangled, high keening. He stumbles on unsteady legs to the white plastic chair by the bed and collapses into it, its legs grating on the linoleum floor. His breathe catches in his chest and it aches, but Gakuto forces his voice out.

"Yuushi?"

His voice seems huge in the tiny room, Yuushi doesn't reply, but his hand gives a tiny, tiny jerk, and hesitantly, Gakuto slides his own over it. Where his are warm and slightly sticky with sweat, Yuushi's are cool and dry, but limp and pale. There is no life left in Yuushi's hands, a consequence of all the blood rushing to his vital organs and his brain in an attempt to keep him alive. Gakuto feels sick and wishes he hadn't paid attention in his Biology lessons.

Yuushi's hand does the twitchy thing again, snapping Gakuto out of his musings and he focuses desperate eyes on the face of his doubles partner. Yuushi's eyes are still as flat and glassy as before, but there's something moving beneath the surface, like a carp in a lake. Gakuto leans forwards, the chair creaking in protest, hand hovering over Yuushi's hair, unsure where to land.

Then Yuushi blinks, granted it is a slow, lethargic blink, but he does and Gakuto feels his eyes sting. The lump in his throat comes back, and his heartbeat accelerates, mirroring Yuushi's on the monitor beside him. Underneath the mask, Yuushi's lips part, and a tiny flush of colour seeps back into them, his eyes slid shut and he turns his head, hair a splash of colour against the white pillow.

Everything's still, for a long time. Gakuto doesn't dare move; hand still clenched over Yuushi's, and even the breeze seems to have stopped. Then, very slowly, Yuushi opens his eyes. Gakuto gasps, a horrible, wrenching sound, like his father's saw catching on timber and his eyes mist with tears. Yuushi takes in a shuddering breath, chest jerking with the effort and focuses his green eyes on Gakuto, who is by now openly sobbing, tears running unchecked down his face.

Yuushi's hand turns over in his grip as he slides their fingers together, IV lead tangling around their entwined hands and he's smiling under the mask. Gakuto leans forwards, tears running off his nose and turning the white sheets a mottled grey as he sobs until his chest hurts. Yuushi runs his long fingers through his hair, chuckling low and warm in his chest. Eventually, Gakuto's cries cease and he gasps like a fish out of water. He raises his head, eyes meeting Yuushi's. He knows he looks a mess; his eyes feel so swollen that he can barely see out of them, and his face is shiny with tears.

Yuushi runs his thumb under his left eye, fingers curling around his jaw and Gakuto gives him a watery smile. Yuushi mouths something under the mask, the plastic fogs and Gakuto frowns.

"I can't hear you."

Yuushi rolls his eyes and disentangles his fingers from Gakuto's. Carefully, he eases the mask off, wincing as the warm air of the hospital rushes down his windpipe. He fiddles with the catch at the side of the mask, snapping the elastic off and setting it beside the pillow. Then he pulls Gakuto's head down and kisses him. It's only a short kiss; Yuushi runs out of breath soon after and he pulls away, the taste of something sweet dancing on his tongue.

"I said," and his voice is husky from the oxygen mask. "That you look beautiful."

Gakuto's cheeks match his hair and he buries his head in Yuushi's shoulder, mindful of the swathe of bandages across his collarbone. Yuushi laughs and Gakuto's heart swells so much that he feels it might burst.

Yuushi will get better, Gakuto is sure; as he watches the dying light dance across his partner's sleeping face. His phone vibrates in his jeans pocket, but Gakuto ignores it. He'll ring his mother in the morning; what's most important to him is here, and Gakuto has no intention of leaving him. He fidgets in the chair; hand still wrapped tight around Yuushi's and gently rests his head on the mattress. He's exhausted, and it doesn't take long for him to drift off to sleep.

In the half-darkness, Yuushi's eyes open and he stares down with open fondness at the shock of red hair next to his chest.

"Sleep well, Gakuto."


End file.
